


Love Lies Bleeding

by DaronwyK



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark Magic, F/M, Fuck Or Die, Severus Snape Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:28:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21903019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaronwyK/pseuds/DaronwyK
Summary: Severus Snape survived the Battle of Hogwarts, but not without consequence. Only one person ever went looking for him, and she might be the key to saving his life.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 26
Kudos: 445
Collections: Favorite, Twistmas 2019 - A Dark Remix Xmas Fest





	Love Lies Bleeding

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Twistmas2019](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Twistmas2019) collection. 



> Written for 2019 Twistmas hosted by the Slytherin Cabal. Much love to my beta who must remain nameless for the moment. Usual disclaimers apply. Prompt: Being Sick & Having Someone Take care of You.

Hermione was getting dressed to head out. There was a Christmas Party at the Burrow, and Harry had hinted that he was thinking about proposing to Ginny while everyone was there. Christmas Eve seemed to be a date that appealed to him. It was sweet really. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about the relationship, but if Ginny made Harry happy…then she’d learn to accept it. She and Ron had finally called it quits last month, but agreed to not tell his family until the New Year. Neither of them wanted to ruin the holidays, especially with it being the first back at the newly rebuilt Weasley home.

She was just slipping her earrings in when a knock came from her door. She frowned a little and grabbed her wand. Her address wasn’t commonly known and it could just be one of her neighbours, but it never hurt to be cautious. She opened it and blinked in shock. Standing there, in front of her door, was probably the last person she’d ever expected to see.

“Madam Prince?” Hermione said after a stunned moment of silence. She opened the door wider and gestured the woman in. She’d tracked Snape’s mother down in the summer, during her rather obsessive quest to prove that he was really alive. Both Harry and Ron had thought her barmy, and begged her to give up the search back in October. She’d reluctantly agreed. Not because she thought he was dead, but rather because she didn’t think she could find him, if he didn’t want to be found.

“I know that I shouldn’t have come…but I don’t know who else to go to.” She sighed. “You’re the only one that ever came looking for him, and I know you didn’t believe that I’d had no contact with him. The papers said you and the Potter boy were the ones that fought to get his name cleared.” The woman was fidgeting with her hands, and looked distraught.

“It seemed like the least we could do, after believing the worst about him,” Hermione said. The guilt was still a very real stone sitting in the middle of her chest.

“He needs help. Stubborn man would rather let this curse kill him than ask for it, so I’m asking for him. Will you come with me and help my son?” Eileen Prince’s face was set in determined lines. The hardships of her life had left their toll on what had probably once been a striking face. She reached out and touched Hermione’s arm. “Please.”

“I’ll do what I can. Where is he?” she asked and headed back to her bedroom. She opened the bottom drawer of her night stand and pulled out a worn, tattered bag. The beads had largely fallen off, but there was still a stash of healing supplies, the wizarding tent, and a small library of books dealing with the dark arts. An emergency bag. Just in case.

“Read this.” Eileen handed her a slip of paper. Written in delicate script was, **_Severus Snape’s home is located at 4 Kings Street, Yarburgh._**

Hermione nodded and handed the paper back to her. So much for dinner. She’d send a patronus later and come up with some excuse for her absence, if Snape didn’t just obliviate her.

“I’ll Apparate us,” Eileen said and took Hermione’s hand.

In an instant, they were standing on a darkened lane, in front of a large brick home. She could see a sunroom off on the southern side of the building, and smoke came from the chimney. The snow had been cleared from the step, and Eileen invited her in.

“He’s in the first room to the left, at the top of the stairs. I’ll make a nice cup of tea while you go and see him,” Eileen said and walked away from the main entrance.

Hermione swallowed a little and summoned her nerve. She climbed the steps, and paused in front of the door in question. She knocked lightly, before opening the door and peering inside. It took everything in her to not gasp in shock. Severus Snape laid on a large, four-poster bed. He was almost ashen in complexion, and there were pinkish stains on the white linens anywhere they touched his skin. The smell of blood was potent in this room.

“Sweet Merlin…”

“It had to be you,” Snape said, opening his eyes and pinning her with a look. “Why couldn’t you have just let old ghosts be? Then I might have died in some peace.”

“Is that what you want? To die?” She approached, her eyes taking in as much information as they could. He was clearly suffering from some kind of curse that was literally bleeding him out through his pores, and possibly other places. Her eyes caught sight of bloody tissues in the wastepaper basket.

“No, but there is nothing anyone can do.” He looked over at her. “Bellatrix always was a vicious bitch.”

“Her handiwork then.” She pulled over a chair and sat by his bedside. “What curse is it?”

“A fatal one,” Severus said simply. “My mother stubbornly refuses to accept that. It seems I will have to pay for my misdeeds one way or another.”

“If it’s fatal, then what harm is there in telling me what it is?” she asked.

“How familiar are you with dark curses, Miss Granger?” He finally said.

“More familiar than most would probably like me to be.” Hermione hedged a little.

“Have you ever heard of Love Lies Bleeding?” he asked.

“It’s a curse that slowly destroys the victim’s circulatory system, but it’s curable. Did Bellatrix make some variant?” Hermione frowned.

“It’s the original, but what is the cure, Miss Granger? Surely, your powers of recall will not fail you,” Severus said.

Hermione thought about it, and then the blood drained from her face a little as she remembered what the text had said. “It was referred to as the lonely heart curse, because only someone who lived without love would suffer from it. You’d need to bond to a witch to reverse the damage and save your life.”

“And can you imagine any witches willing to subject themselves to me, in return for nothing but public shame and scorn? No,” Severus said. “My mother is desperate to save me, but I’ve come to terms with my death.” A vicious hacking cough overtook him, and Hermione passed him a handkerchief. He removed it with a smear of blood across his bottom lip.

Hermione went and poured him a glass of water and brought it over.

“How did you know I was still alive?” he asked, laying back against the pillows and closing his eyes. Even that small expenditure of effort seemed to have exhausted him.

“Your wand was gone. If it had been someone from our side desecrating your body, they’d have broken it. If Voldemort had returned and let Nagini eat you, they’d just have left it behind. It didn’t fit,” Hermione said.

“You always were the clever one.” He sighed.

“I should have known something wasn’t right. I should have suspected that you weren’t really on their side,” Hermione said, feeling tears stinging at her eyes. “Dumbledore led us to the cliff and we all just jumped off without looking. We were such idiots.”

“It was designed that way. If you had suspected, others might have too and that would have meant death for me, and likely others. Do not apologize for the past. We all did what we had to.” He opened his eyes and looked at her. “You should go, this isn’t something anyone should have to watch.”

“I could do it…” Hermione said, a terrible idea blossomed in her mind and just tumbled straight past her lips.

“No,” he said firmly. “And I will not listen to such nonsense. I appreciate your efforts to find me and your work to clear my name…but you do not need to assuage your guilt with some noble sacrifice. I’m not a good man; I’ve done horrible things and I deserve this.”

“You did what you had to do and we couldn’t have won without you,” Hermione said firmly, her shoulders squaring. “That’s why your mother brought me here, because she knew I could save you.”

“She brought you here, because she’s a meddling old witch trying to make up for the hell that was my childhood,” he muttered. “You would throw away your life, any chance of happiness and love, just to save me? You really are a dunderhead, I take back my remark about you being clever.”

“I’m not the one throwing away a chance to live, when it’s being offered without any strings attached,” Hermione said, gritting her teeth. “Who’s the Dunderhead now?”

“You do understand the requirements for a wizarding bonding? It’s not just pretty words and promises, and a little fancy wand work. It requires consummation, fidelity, and it is unbreakable. You would be stuck with me until I died. Think on that, before you make this ridiculous offer again. There are always strings.” He paused. “I imagine my mother is making tea. I suggest you go downstairs, tell her you’re sorry, and leave. Go to whatever party you were heading to and whatever beau is waiting on you with bated breath. It was kind to offer, but you have no idea what you’re saying.” He closed his eyes and turned his head away.

Hermione stood and left the room, feeling gutted. She headed downstairs and followed the sound of someone puttering in the kitchen. She found Eileen fixing a plate of cookies and some tea.

“Well, you’re not in tears. It must have gone better than I thought,” she said and nodded to the table.

“He doesn’t want my help,” Hermione said and sank into a chair.

“He does, he’s just afraid to accept it,” Eileen said. “No one’s ever offered him a hand, without wanting something in return. He thought Dumbledore was different, but that man used him more than the Dark Lord ever did. It breaks my heart to see it, how little he thinks of others. Experience has been a cruel master to him. I can’t ask you to give up your future for my son, but if it’s something you want to do…don’t give him the option. He wants to live, but he won’t ask.” Eileen placed a slender book on the table. “I’m going to go. I’ll return in a couple of hours. The ritual you need is on page twelve, but I’ll understand if you decide to leave.” There was a shimmer of tears in her eyes. “He was my son and I didn’t protect him when I could…that’s my burden to bear. You don’t owe us anything.”

Hermione just nodded, a hard lump in her throat not letting her speak as Snape’s mother stood and walked out of the kitchen. She reached for the tea and sipped it mechanically. Looking at it logically, she didn’t owe Snape anything, or at least not THIS. But if she left, then she was choosing to let him die. She wasn’t sure if she could live with that. Snape had given up so much over the years, his freedom, his reputation, and she had no idea the physical toll that had been exacted from him over the years. Because of him, they were free now and he was slowly dying in a bed, alone.

She wiped away a tear and reached for the book. On page twelve was a simple ritual for a marriage bond, it would link their magic together intrinsically and irrevocably. This bond had fallen out of favour simply because it was unbreakable. Modern bonds could be dissolved by mutual intent, but to defeat his curse, something deeper was required.

By the time she’d come to a decision, her tea had gone cold. She stood and took the book with her, heading up the staircase. Her heart was hammering away inside her chest and she was trying very hard not to think too deeply about this. Tonight, she needed to be a Gryffindor and rush in where Slytherins feared to tread. Snape needed a Christmas miracle, and she could be that for him.

She entered his room and locked the door behind her. His eyes opened, but he didn’t speak, watching as she slipped off her heels and reached behind her to unzip the simple black dress she’d chosen for tonight’s party.

“Miss Granger…”

“I think Hermione’s more appropriate right now.” She interrupted him and unhooked her bra. “You don’t want to die. If you did, you’d have just let Voldemort kill you in the Shack.” She tossed the bra aside and approached the bed. She carefully pulled back the blankets and murmured a soft cleaning spell to banish the blood and sweat from the linens. “We can work everything out later, but we don’t have a lot of time. Do we?”

“No.” There was a look of disbelief mixed with cautious hope. His dark eyes ran along her mostly naked form, lingering on the garter belt and silk stockings…and the conspicuous lack of underwear. “As much as it pains me to admit, you may need a spell. I fear I’m too weak to…participate much.” There was a flush of embarrassment as he admitted them.

“I don’t know any…” She started to say, but paused seeing a potion vial on the nightstand. She picked it up and offered it to Snape. “Your mother?”

“Interfering witch,” he muttered and smelled it, before drinking it back. “I believe that will solve the issue,” he said and looked up at her. “No panties? I’m shocked.” He let a small grin cross his lips as Hermione blushed.

“I….like how it feels.” She thought her cheeks might burst into flames. She had NOT been intending for anyone to see her naked tonight.

Severus lifted a hand reached out, trailing his fingertips along her hip, tracing one of the garter straps. “A little sinner hiding under the saint?” he smiled. “Cast the spell,” he finally said.

Hermione lifted her wand and began the spell. She spoke very clearly and traced the circles around their wrists, before reaching out and joining their left hands. A soft golden light wrapped around them.

“I swear to be yours, Severus Snape, in heart, body, and magic from this day until death parts us,” Hermione said her part.

“And I swear to be yours, Hermione Granger, in heart, body, and magic from this day until death parts us,” he replied.

Hermione gasped as the golden light sank into their skin and seemed to radiate from their bodies like a captive sun. Warmth began to pool inside of her and everything felt misty, like a dream. She felt Snape use her hand to bring her closer, drawing her onto the bed with him. She leaned down and stole a kiss, gasping as his hand tangled in her hair and he returned the kiss with an intensity she hadn’t been expecting.

She wasn’t entirely sure what she’d been expecting…but passionate hadn’t been it. Hermione gasped as he rolled them, putting him slightly on top. She wondered what exactly had been in that vial and moaned as his lips found a sensitive spot on her neck. She started to explore his body through the thin nightshirt, she could feel the hard lines of lean muscle and the prominent ridge of bone where he had no extra covering. He traced his hand down her side, feeling her skin as if mapping every inch of it.

There was something intoxicating about his touch and every caress seemed to settle low in her stomach. Whatever his other faults, in this at least, it was clear Severus knew what he was doing. His lips found a nipple and he teased it with light touches of his teeth and soothing circles of his tongue. She slipped her hands into his hair. It was damp and fine, but not oily like it had appeared. He guided her legs apart to let him settle in between them more firmly.

She gasped as she felt the brush of his erection against her, just briefly as he adjusted their position to be more comfortable. His kisses moved back up her neck and brushed against her ear. “I don’t know how long the potion will last,” he said, a question unspoken.

Hermione reached for one of his hands and guided it down between her legs, using their joined fingers to stroke her sex. Whatever magic was at play here was definitely fanning her own arousal as well, or just the desperation of the situation was heightening her responses. She gasped, arching into his hand as he slipped a couple of fingers inside, testing her.

He shifted back and stripped off the nightshirt, not quite meeting her eyes as he tossed it aside. His body was painted in a veritable mosaic of old and newer scars. Spell damage crawled like silver spider webs over his right shoulder. They made the pinkish scars at his throat look minor. She reached out and pulled him back down, reassuring him with a kiss. She had her own scars, and when he’d looked at her there had been nothing, but wonder. She felt him rally and shift a little, pressing into her slowly.

Hermione gasped into the kiss, trying to adjust to the feel of him. As his hips settled against hers, it ran the edge of almost too much, almost painful, but even better for it. He broke the kiss and buried his face against her shoulder and began to move. She lifted her hips to meet his thrusts, helping him as much as she could. She could feel the tremble in his muscles now, and knew how much it was costing him to do this.

She could feel the bonding magic swell inside of her, quivering as Severus’ thrusts became less measured. He muffled his cries into her skin, hips jerking as he finished inside of her. She didn’t, but in that moment, it didn’t feel necessary. There was a warmth and contentment that seemed to wash over her as she held him.

“Are you ok?” Hermione asked and stroked a hand down his back.

“I’m…fine,” he said somewhat confused. He took a deep breath, as if experimenting and pushed himself up on an elbow. “The pain’s gone.”

Hermione smiled. “That’s a good thing right?”

Severus leaned down and kissed her deeply. “Thank Merlin, for foolish Gryffindors,” he whispered against her lips.

Hermione blushed a little at the words. Tomorrow everything would go to hell, but for tonight she just wanted things to be still. “I think this counts as your Christmas present.”

“Then I shall have to made thorough use of it in the morning.” He smiled wickedly then, and reached down to pull the blankets up over them. “Rest well, you’re going to need it.” He pulled her close, holding her as they both came down from the incredible magical high.

* * *

The next morning in the Births, Bondings, and Deaths office, a very confused clerk was looking at the marriage notice on his desk.

“But he’s supposed to be dead, isn’t he?” The man frowned and put it aside. Bloody charm must be on the fritz again. He’d have the office send down a Charms Master to refresh the enchantments. Until then, he’d keep this one aside and maybe refer it up to the new Minister. He knew Hermione Granger, surely he could sort this out quickly enough.

~Fin


End file.
